


breathless

by g0ryllama



Series: Murrmin ;) [8]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Choking, Dry Humping, Hand Jobs, Light BDSM, M/M, erotic asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 04:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19201717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g0ryllama/pseuds/g0ryllama
Summary: All he knows is breathless, and it feels so good.Until it means telling Moomin about it.





	breathless

**Author's Note:**

> smut ahead

_ All he knows is breathless _

_ Breathless gasps _

_ Breathless whines _

_ Breathless kisses _

_ That sear his lips _

_ And pull him down into darkness _

 

_ It envelopes him _

_ Like a syrup so thick _

_ He can't breathe through it _

_ And he wouldn't want to _

_ Doesn't want to lose the serenity _

 

_ So sweet he thinks _

_ So soft and all encompassing _

_ So gentle and careful _

_ So sweet _

 

_ He reaches out to touch _

_ His hands pale and see through _

_ And it's all right _

 

_ Because he's transparent and open _

_ And loved for it _

 

_ And he'd have it no other way _

 

Snufkin jolts awake, eyes wide and hair matted to his forehead with sweat, chest heaving as he breathes raggedly. His hands are balled tightly into fists, gripping onto his blanket like a lifeline, unable to make heads or tails of what he was dreaming. 

A name on his lips and his mind, as always, driving him to the edge of desperation with no regard for his wants or needs.

How he wishes he could stop thinking of his best friend in such a  _ personal _ way. 

It's confusing most of all. Moomin, all soft and fluffy and kind (if a little overbearing), is not at all the hot, alluring and seductive being in his dreams. But out of everything that could have been the subject, a faceless entity, or even anyone he'd met on his travels, it just had to be the one person that meant more to him than anyone else.

The irony of course, being that it makes  _ more  _ sense for Moomintroll to be the subject of his deepest fantasies considering their closeness.

Wiping the sweat away from his brow, Snufkin sits up and begins packing his things away; today is adventure day. He cannot be distracted.

The group had agreed to meet by the pier on the beach before noon, and so Snufkin decides to get a head start alone. Hopefully he can rid himself of any embarrassing thoughts before the others have a chance to ask him why he's acting so differently to normal.

There's voices and the clatter of breakfast crockery coming from the veranda as he folds away his tent, and his cheeks flush at the slightly deeper voice of his best friend. He'd had a sudden growth spurt over the Winter, and his voice had deepened, and Snufkin wonders if maybe that was what had kick-started his fantasies. Or just made them worse.

The walk is mostly silent, as he takes a much less walked path down to the beach, avoiding any and all interaction with other people. His mind still full of his dream, his cheeks flushed red, his hands shaking a little. It's embarrassing, and not something he can easily wave off without garnering concern from everyone else.

By the time he's reached the beach however, Snufkin feels a lot less heated, and finds he can breathe in the sea air without almost choking on the thought of having his airways cut off by lips pressed against his.

Shaking his head rapidly to stop the shudders creeping up his spine again, he sets about to find something to do, moving a large net out of the shallows and into a pile against the cliff face after freeing the turtles caught in it. Then he picks up some rubbish and puts it in the beach house on the pier to dispose of later, before finally sitting down to watch the fluffy white clouds roll over his head.

They look soft to the touch, gentle and heavenly but he knows really that they're heavy and all encompassing and dangerous if misjudged. Clouds can change in a matter of seconds to become storms and tools of destruction. It's beautiful, the dichotomy, the unpredictability, the  _ excitement _ .

If he closes his eyes for long enough, maybe they will change.

"Hey Snufkin," a quiet but confident voice announces from behind his back, paw held above his head to stop the sun shining into his eyes over the water. "It's just us today."

"Oh?" Snufkin looks up at Moomintroll beneath his hat, hoping that either his cheeks aren't too red or that his flush is in the right places to blame it on a sunburn. "How come?"

Moomin offers his spare paw out to him, and Snufkin lets him pull him up, peeking behind him to see a medium size picnic basket on the sand. "Sniff is more concerned with his current business endeavours and Snorkmaiden and Little My are happy making flower crowns in the valley."

There's a slight stutter to his words that wouldn't normally be there, but Snufkin brushes off the suspicion it leaves him with as he takes hold of one side of the basket. "Well, just us is good enough for me."

It takes Moomin a while to react, eyes widening a little when he catches himself staring blankly at the mumrik before he rushes to help, and they haul it onto the boat, along with Snufkin's pack and their fishing rods. "And for me."

* * *

 

The sea glistens like Moomin's eyes do when he stands in the sunlight, and Snufkin sighs quietly as his fishing rod stays woefully still. They'd rowed out far enough that there's only water surrounding them all the way to the horizon, and not another soul in sight.

Just the two of them. On a small boat. In the middle of the sea. Where no one, specifically not Little My, would interrupt them.

If he lets his eyes wander over to the troll next to him more often than he watches his line, then there's no one to call him out on it. And if they're sat a lot closer than they need to be, then neither of them will mention it.

Snufkin finds his breath knocked from him when Moomin stands up suddenly, reeling in his line. He frowns at him and tightens his grip on his own rod.

"S-sorry Snuff," he grits out, pulling harder and Snufkin almost loses his last shred of decency at the way his fur almost  _ ripples _ when he flexes his arms, teasing at the muscles beneath. There's no way he isn't super ripped under all that fluffiness and sweetness, and it's similarly as exciting as the hidden danger in clouds. He's a lost cause, he thinks as he shuts his mouth and turns his head much too quickly to be incidental. "Snuff?"

"It's fine."

It's not fine.

* * *

 

About an hour into their fishing trip, Moomin begins to get restless, talking non stop about everything and nothing, and even his deeper (pleasing) voice doesn't ease the irritation Snufkin's overcome with.

A sudden loud clap of thunder quickly shuts him up as they both look behind them, a blanket of dark grey quickly encroaching along the sea towards their boat. The water beneath it looks murky and angry, completely different to the calm and almost serene water Snufkin has been contemplating drowning himself in.

Rushing to the other side of the boat, Snufkin almost topples it over in his desperation to watch the storm roll in. He feels mesmerised, a deep appreciation of the danger and electricity roiling in the clouds stealing his breath from his lungs (this again?).

"I think Hattifattener's island is in that direction," Moomintroll muses hurriedly, pulling the sail up and turning the tiller in the opposite direction to where he's pointing, and the dark clouds slowly begin to fade into the distance the closer they get to the deserted island. "Snufkin, are you okay?"

Confused, he nods, only to notice his hands fiddling with his scarf desperately, and Moomin's eyes fixed on his own. "It's so unpredictable. Storms can just… Happen, with no warning, from clouds so bright and calm. It's breathtaking…"

Moomin laughs to himself as he focuses back on steering the boat. Snufkin sits next to him, not letting himself think of how his shoulder is at the perfect height for him to rest his head on. "Looks like we might get stranded overnight."

* * *

 

Once they land, the two of them pull the boat up onto the beach, tying it to a few of the sturdy trees along the edge of the forest, laughing giddily when the first few raindrops hit the sand.

Snufkin lets Moomin spin him around, the rhythmic sound of the raindrops falling into the sea and the thunder slowly getting louder their music as they dance. They have the whole island to themselves (unless the Hattifattener's are here), which is as exciting as it is worrying.

Being on the boat was one thing, but now it's just the two of them on a whole  _ island _ , so they could do anything and nobody would know.

And when Moomintroll pulls him close and their noses accidentally brush together, but neither of them pull away, that's when Snufkin knows panicking about it all is a lost cause.

* * *

 

They don't talk about it as they set up the tent in the cave Moomin recalls as where he, Snorkmaiden and Little My had camped out a few years ago. Which totally doesn't make him feel awkward as he trails his hand along the fishing net still left up from Snorkmaiden's attempt at decoration.

They don't talk about it as they share the picnic tea they brought (sandwiches and pancakes for dessert), eating mostly in silence so they can appreciate the sounds of thunder and rain overhead.

They still don't talk about it when the lightning strikes right outside their cave, sending them both into a fright for a few seconds at the surprise. Snufkin's hands somehow end up tangled in Moomin's fur, Moomin’s paws reaching for Snufkin. (They definitely don't talk about it when they separate with too much haste to be innocent of any untoward thoughts).

They've not talked about it by the time they're settling in for the night, wrapped up in blankets and yet still shivering, the cold stormy night unbearable.

Snufkin's teeth begin to chatter despite his best attempts to stop it (his hand hurts where he was biting it), even curled up into a ball his muscles ache from the tremors.

"... We could huddle together for warmth?" Moomin's voice sounds rough and rumbly with sleep, like music to Snufkin's ears. "You'll get ill otherwise."

Logically, he knows the cons should outweigh the pros of snuggling up to his best friend,  _ especially  _ considering his dreams of late. Illogically, Snufkin lifts his blankets and slides over to Moomintroll without a second thought, hazel eyes locking with blue, half-lidded and clearly sleepy ones. Moomin's arm is a much better pillow than the rolled up bedroll he'd been using before, soft and furry but still firm. Snufkin holds back a sigh of relief when his other arm slides around his waist, pulling him closer with a lazy strength.

Moomintroll smells of the apricot jam they'd had with the pancakes and petrichor, deep and natural and  _ warm _ , like the ground after a Summer shower. Snufkin inhales deeply, teeth no longer chattering, warm and comfortable tucked up against the troll.

He falls asleep before he even has a chance to whisper a thank you, not noticing a gentle paw playing with his hair.

* * *

 

_ Breathing is overrated _

_ Of that he's sure _

_ Because why would it feel so good _

_ To be denied it _

_ If it wasn't? _

 

_ A paw covers his throat _

_ Lips steal his every whimper _

_ Pleasure hot in his veins _

 

_ It comes too soon- _

 

Inhaling sharply, Snufkin wakes up and finds himself in perhaps the most embarrassing situation he's ever been in.

Somehow (because of course) during the night, they'd tangled their legs together, which wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't woefully hard in his trousers. Not to mention that Moomin is awake before him, staring at him blankly, an unreadable expression on his face. There's no way he isn't aware of Snufkin's situation, considering that it's pressed up against his stomach.

Why did he agree to sleep next to him?

Stuck between wanting to run away and never look back, and being frozen completely still, Snufkin panics, accidentally punching Moomintroll’s nose as he scrambles to get away.

“Ow! Snufkin?!” His exclamation freezes the mumrik again, fists pressed against the other’s chest still pushing them apart. “Calm down, it’s fine!”

He shakes his head, but Moomin isn’t angry, or embarrassed… Or disgusted. In fact, there’s something like excitement in the way his breath has quickened, the way he looks at Snufkin like there’s nothing better to watch.

So he takes a jump off the cliff and tilts Moomin’s head up slightly to press their lips together. It’s awkward for a few seconds whilst the troll figures out what’s happening, before everything seems to slot into place and now they’re kissing.

Snufkin fully expects it to continue slowly like that for a while, so when he feels a slow swipe of tongue along his bottom lip, he gasps, unintentionally letting Moomintroll’s tongue slip into his mouth. It’s a strange sensation, but it’s hot and wet and he tastes kinda gross (they haven’t brushed their teeth yet) but he also tastes like something distinctly Moomintroll, which is enough for Snufkin to moan into the kiss. Moomin hums in response, a paw gently cupping Snufkin’s cheek as he deepens the kiss, tongue sliding along his own.

After a few minutes of making out, Snufkin pulls away to take a gasping breath, wiping drool off his bottom lip with his sleeve. “Where did... You learn to kiss like that?”

“Pappa has some books…”

Of course he does. Snufkin, determined not to lose the moment, pushes Moomintroll onto his back and moves to straddle him (it’s a little uncomfortable, but he doesn’t need comfort now anyway), with what he hopes is a seductive look on his face. “Let’s do it again.”

A little flustered, Moomin nods, sitting up and wrapping an arm around Snufkin’s waist as their lips meet again, a lot less patient than before, teeth uncomfortably clacking every now and then. Unsure of what to do with his hands, Snufkin holds onto Moomin’s shoulders, pushing his hips forward in the troll’s lap, humming when a dull thrum of pleasure pools in his gut.

“What were you dreaming about?” He whispers against Snufkin’s lips when they break apart again.

Pushing the feeling of dread down, he stops moving, deciding it’d be better to give his answer all of his attention. “You. Mainly,” he notices the quiet hitch in Moomin’s breath but continues, looking at the canvas of the tent fixedly. “Taking my breath away. Sometimes literally.”

“That turns you on?”

“Mhmm.”

Nervous energy courses through Snufkin’s veins as Moomintroll takes a moment to process his words. His fingers curl into his fur, just as Moomin slides a paw up to his throat, not doing anything yet except for resting there.

“This in Pappa’s books too?”

“Yeah. Tap three times if it’s too much?”

Snufkin almost can’t believe what’s happening, mind fuzzy with anticipation and doubt, but he nods, repositioning himself in Moomintroll’s lap to make it easier for them both. “Okay…”

They both lean back in to kiss, the weight of his paw on his throat steadily increasing in a way that has Snufkin almost frantic. Beneath him he can feel Moomin’s cock grow hard, and he makes a mental note to talk about anatomy when they’re done, but for now he focuses on grinding down slowly against it, gasping when it makes Moomin’s paw flex tighter against his throat.

He can hear the blood rushing in his ears as the pressure in his lungs increases, heart skipping beats every other second, eyesight slowly fading as he closes his eyes. Moomin whispers something to him vaguely but he doesn’t catch it, pleasure increasing tenfold when his cock throbs in his trousers against the other’s body.

It always seemed so peaceful, in his dreams, to be breathless, but now he knows it’s anything but. The pressure feels almost unbearable, the lack of oxygen making his head feel heavy and light at the same time, his thoughts all jumbling together to create a static noise in the back of his head. It’s the most exhilarating thing he’s ever experienced.

His body seems to snap into survival mode when Moomin finally cuts his airways off completely, adrenaline rushing and muscles seizing as though he needs to fight it. Instead, Snufkin channels that energy into rubbing himself and Moomin off, desperate for the rush of white hot pleasure only just out of reach.

He feels hot all over. His lungs try to inhale urgently, chest heaving to no avail. It feels so  _ good _ , Snufkin has no idea how he lived before this.

A few seconds later, his hips stutter in their movement as he spills his release, trousers sticky and uncomfortable but all he can think about is how fascinated Moomin looks at him as he opens his eyes lazily, how carefully he loosens his hold. Snufkin gasps harshly as he can finally breathe, air rushing into his lungs desperately before promptly collapsing against him, panting and shaking all over, thoroughly wrecked.

Only absently does he remember that Moomin didn’t cum, but he’s still shaking, every part of his body oversensitive and highly strung. His fur is so soft under his cheek, soothing his prickling skin, so Snufkin nuzzles closer against it.

“You did so well, Snufkin.” Moomintroll praises quietly, and Snufkin has to bite his lip to stop himself from crying; he wasn’t expecting an emotional breakdown post-orgasm but at least Moomin was. He supposes getting choked isn’t an emotionless activity, so it makes sense at least. Moomintroll continues to whisper quietly, mostly sweet nothings. Seems Pappa’s books really did cover everything.

After a few minutes, Snufkin feels like he’s calmed down enough to help finish the other off, waving away his reassurances that he doesn’t have to. “I want to.”

He wraps his hand firmly but not too hard around Moomin’s cock, stroking him up and down at varying paces until he finds the one that makes the troll shake, grinning as he focuses on getting him off.

It doesn’t take long before Moomin coats Snufkin’s hand in a thick, milky liquid, cheeks dusted pink and eyes glassy with pleasure. If he feels a surge of pride at making him cum, Snufkin doesn’t admit it, wiping the semen on his already dirtied trousers without much of a second thought.

“The storm’s over,” he hums absent-mindedly, listening for the sound of rain and not finding it. “I guess we should head home before the others suspect something.”

* * *

 

When they return to Moominhouse that afternoon (clean and not red-faced), they are welcomed by a large lunch spread, their friends already tucking into the food Mamma had prepared.

“Hello dears, did you get caught out in the storm?” She asks, helping them take their things into the house and giving them both a hug.

Snufkin nods as Moomin begins recounting their adventure, leaving out the accidental kiss on the beach and their… Morning activities.

Satisfied that they were safe, Mamma smiles and ruffles the fur on Moomin’s ears. “The others were most upset you set off before they could join you.”

Confused, Snufkin tilts his head, understanding dawning on him as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Were they really? I thought they were too busy…”

Caught out, Moomintroll begins hastily trying to explain before he gives up, pouting with a betrayed look in his eyes directed at Mamma, who just laughs. “He was going to find out regardless dear. Would you rather it came from me or your friends?”

They sit down next to each other at the table once Moomin has calmed down, exchanging jokes with the others until the conversation moves on. Leaning into the other’s space, Snufkin whispers. “You could have just said you wanted some alone time with me.”

“Yes, but one doesn’t say that kind of thing outright, Snuff. To woo, you have to be patient and discreet.”

Rolling his eyes, Snufkin tries to hide how his words steal his breath from him (again), cheeks flushing and lungs aching despite himself.

**Author's Note:**

> why do i only write their first times lmao
> 
> im a sucker for pining, i guess
> 
> I AM ALSO JUST A SLUT FOR CHOKING so snufkin had to be too, sorry not sorry, i dont make the rules (i did my research, please believe that i know what im talking about lmao)


End file.
